


Why Didn't I Know?

by Hodgesicle



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Based on a theory i saw once, M/M, and its a butt load of sad, hi, im totally new to this ao3 thing, lots of sadness, so this is the first work i post, sorry if you feel sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-25
Updated: 2017-02-25
Packaged: 2018-09-26 22:55:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9927785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hodgesicle/pseuds/Hodgesicle
Summary: Yuuri can find all the words to describe his love for Viktor, but finding the words to describe how he feels about something he didnt know is hard.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So my first AO3 work, and its already posted to Tumblr first. But it got no notes ;A; so I'm trying it here. Hope its okay, its kinda short, and kind of a cliffhanger but _(:3 」∠)_ youll probably like it.

Adoration. Fondness. Devotion. Affection. 

There was a million and one ways Yuuri could think to express his feelings for Viktor. 

Admiration. Worship. Idolization. Affection. 

He could always think of another word for it.  


Desire. Infatuation. Cherishment. Doting.  


Never was there a word he couldn’t think of how to say how he felt.  


Intrigued. Fascinated. Enthralled. Captivated.  


They were all words he could say. But Yuuri always choose one word to express how he felt.  


Love.  


Yuuri loved Viktor. He didn’t adore him, nor did he admire him. He didn’t idolize him or desire him. He loved him.  


It was such a strong word, and Yuuri himself couldn’t fully explain it to the world, for he didn’t fully understand it himself, but he loved Viktor. He was the only person that could possible make him feel this way. Viktor was Yuuri’s inspiration, his innovation, his finesse. He was confident around Viktor, felt in his own skin. His worries disappeared. He could express himself more. He was able to show the public that Viktor was what made Yuuri who he had become. He was the most cherished thing in Yuuri’s life, and without Viktor, Yuuri wouldn’t have been able to see the light within the dark, wouldn’t have been able to break from his shell and become the most beautiful figure skater there was ever known. He was an essence of beauty in his own way and Yuuri found the fuel for that essence from Viktor. From the touches and the gestures and the smiles. The compliments and the encouragement and the praise, he felt it all add up to his confidence and Viktor was able to break that out of Yuuri without even the slightest bit of trying. Viktor was Yuuri’s love, in which way he was his love, Yuuri hadn’t figured it out yet, but he knew that this was the person who was going to give him the strength he needed; who was going to get him to the end of the Grand Prix; who was going to make him put all of his effort into his performances and win. Viktor was the one who was going to make Yuuri stand tall.  


Wasn’t he?  


It was shock at first. It was an in the moment spur. It was a dream. Not real. It was all in his head. He didn’t believe it. He didn’t want to believe it. But Yuuri watched Viktor fall to the ice. A genuine fall. It wasn’t dramatic. It wasn’t fake. It wasn’t accidental. It was genuine. It was true. It was scary. He was lifeless, Yuuri’s heart caught in the back of his throat to see his coach, his love, lie lifeless on the ice. It was a rush. Yuuri couldn’t help it. He needed to get to him. Slipping on the ice was a minor inconvenience, Viktor needed help.  


‘Viktor?!’ Yuuri’s cries rang through the ice rink like a distant echo. He couldn’t hear himself think and he didn’t want to imagine the sort of things that could be happening as he cradled Viktor close to him. ‘Viktor talk to me!’  


Yuuko was the first to find them, her hands went straight to her mouth, before she rushed off to the front desk for the phone. Yuuri couldn’t move. He felt physically ill, he didn’t want to leave Viktor; he didn’t want Viktor to leave him. He was a mess, the tears fell from his eyes quicker than he could process fully what was happening. Yuuko returned again with the paramedics closely behind and prised Yuuri from Viktor. But Yuuri wouldn’t let her. He wouldn’t leave him. He needed Viktor to be okay. He needed Viktor to be there for him.  


* * * * *  


‘Yuuri.’  


Yuuri’s head stayed low. His heart was in the pit of his stomach. He couldn’t look at Viktor when he finally woke, hooked to the IV line and laying in a hospital bed. He didn’t want to look at him after what he’s been told. He didn’t want to look at the one who had hidden something so important from him.  


‘Yuuri.’  


Viktor’s voice struck Yuuri like an arrow to the heart. He felt sick. More sick than he did before. It was a painful hurt. He was hurt. Yuuri stood from his chair and Viktor watched him with hope in his eyes. Yuuri didn’t look up. He stared to the floor. He didn’t want to look up; he couldn’t bear to. His fists were clenched.  


‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ Yuuri spoke quietly, his voice choked back. Viktor looked at him in shock, swallowing his words.  


‘Yuuri, I-’ Viktor began to explain, his face knitted with apology.  


‘Why didn’t you tell me?!’ this time when Yuuri spoke, it was loud. It was hurt. It wasn’t angry, or aggressive, it was hurt. Viktor cowered in his bed and knitted his brows together. He wanted Yuuri to look at him. He wanted to speak to his face. He wanted to see his face. ‘Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you tell me? Why? Why, didn’t… didn’t you… didn’t you tell me…?’ Yuuri’s hands flew to his face, balling into fists as he felt himself choke up on his tears. They came quicker than he could stop them; quicker than he could hide them from Viktor. He was sobbing. ‘Why, Viktor?’ Yuuri looked up finally, red blotched face, tears streaming down his cheeks, his eyes red and swollen.  


Viktor’s heart hurt. Seeing Yuuri like this, because of him. It hurt. He couldn’t speak. He couldn’t explain it. What was there to explain? He had acute myeloid leukaemia. He thought he was in remission. But it came back. He couldn’t do anything now, he’d had chemotherapy and bone marrow transplants, radiotherapy and blood transfusions. He’d had it all. But what was he supposed to do now? He was slowly dying and Yuuri was here crying over him because god knows how long he had left until it was over.  


And he’d promised Yuuri he would get him to the Grand Prix finals. He promised him he would help him win but now… now he couldn’t even stand without falling straight to his knees.  


‘I’m sorry.’ was all Viktor could muster. What else could he say? What else did he have to offer Yuuri? He couldn’t promise he was going to be okay. He couldn’t promise he was going to get back to full health. He couldn’t promise anything. And that’s when he was crying. Crying with Yuuri. Crying for Yuuri. He sobbed because that’s all he could do.  


‘I’m sorry.’  


* * * * *


End file.
